Some widgets have options that are only available when you get a premium membership.

We've split the page into zones!

Certain widgets can only be added to certain zones.

"Why," you ask? Because we want profile pages to have freedom of customization, but also to have some consistency. This way, when anyone visits a deviant, they know they can always find the art in the top left, and personal info in the top right.

Hot Wind (Chapter 1)

Soft scuffing brushes the hardwood floor as Genevieve Dragonblade slowly strides into her bedroom. She begins to set her belongings—which includes a spellbook and book bag—down on her work table, while resting her magic staff against the tan wall. Then, she pulls out her hair tie, encouraging her black hair to spread out from the ponytail. After a yawn, the young mage stumbles to her chestnut dressers, pulls out a creamy long sleeve, a pair of light pants, and drags her exhausted self into the bathroom.

Minutes after a refreshing shower, Genevieve walks back to the room, putting a little more energy in her strides than before. For any reminders about upcoming events, she goes to check her calendar, hanging on a wall with a picture of a desert oasis above the dates. Curiously, the mage flips to the next month. On the first day of June, the red ink reads, 'Family reunion.'

Thinking about meeting her cousins again excites Genevieve. Every year they meet, she proves herself to be the strongest mage in the Blade family. Despite having a winning streak of her reputation, there is only one person who can—and eventually will—stand against her. If she lets her guard down, that is.

Hu—

Before finishing her thought on the person's name, Genevieve shakes her head, and adjusts herself to the current reality.

"Thinking about him will make me lose my focus," she tells herself. "To keep my reputation, I cannot afford to lose to my Blade kinfolk."

For now, she can only occupy herself from thinking such thoughts. It takes a minute for Genevieve to get her mind on track for the next day. Taking initiative, the mage grabs her simple notepad and pen, flips to a clean page, and begin to jot her priorities.

May 30* Shop for new occasion dressMay 31* Help Marissa with preparations. Afterwards, get ready for reunion.June 1* FAMILY REUNION: 9:00 am - 12:00 pm* Bring staff and spellbook* Be FABULOUS!! (again)

Genevieve giggles at her immature nature displayed on her last note before slipping the pad and pen into her velvet spellbook. Glancing at the black digital clock, the green numerals showed 9:52 pm. Finally, she gets ready for bed. After a long day, Genevieve wants to go to sleep... but the excitement that is about to happen in the next three days makes her toss and turn.

This idea just popped in my head one night when I was rethinking... about my past and all the previous life decisions, I suppose? At some point in our lives, I believe that everyone will know at least one person who is so happy, cheerful, positive, and gives out good vibes to everyone around them; however, they never form a single word of pain with their lips--in their peers' perspective. Who knows; it's easy for anyone to bury their heart inside their flesh and bone instead of carrying it on their sleeve. Being one of those kind of people, who--when greeted upon--talk while forcing with a smile on my face, and when asked if in a painful state, I shake my head and say, "I'm okay. I'm just thinking." I will only tell my "surface" troubles to my friends, and keep the rest of the most troubling problems in my body, mind and soul. Never uttered a word about any of them to any other soul. And when I do, it's usually partially true. The rest of the truth remains untold.

I'm aware that emos (or stereotypical ones, in this case?) don't have this characteristic of burying their emotions deep... Or do they? I'm not quite sure. From what one of my past teachers told me, she stated that "emo" are a short term for "emotional", thus I don't think that they would wear false masks.

Hello there, fellow deviants! Many of us are starting our gears for school, whether it be university, college, or high school, or any other educational programs at that matter. How was everyone's life back to learning?

Well, mine didn't go very well at the start. o_o'For my first semester, I don't have Math and Science. :/ I'm gonna have to get used to being in English first period, and I have a feeling that AP French is gonna kill me by next month, considering the cirriculum's emphasis in oral communication. The work is a bit challenging, too. Basically, I just don't like any of the courses in this semester--Media Arts is the only course that I'll enjoy very much. xD? Additioonally, my locker is assigned in one of the busiest halls in the school. That 'ought to be fun...

I got a bit angry for having my hopes up today 'cause there wasn't an anime club. An acquaintance of mine misled "anime" with "animation", so-- *Anyways, I can't wait until Art club starts~* *And Hon and I are starting volunteer hours early so hooray for jump starts on those kinds of things* I also got angry yesterday 'cause I couldn't start on colouring the line art I inked on Photoshop in Media Arts. I have to follow these certain steps to prepare the line art for colouring and shading. .-.

In English, I have to get 25 points in this reading program called "Accelerated Reading", and so many more things are gonna pop up in this year.#i cant

~~~~~~~~~~

Well, looks like my novel is gonna be delayed for sure. And, as you may have noticed, I was dead on dA since the start of September. Yeah...

Wait, did I mention that I got my credits in summer school already? Yeppers, I did. I finished off with an A in both courses, so I'm happy with the results. Well, except in one course; I got around an A- in it.. >_>

I've caught up with the animes I'm currently watching right now, and I'm frequently listening to Touhou soundtracks to pump me through my academic work. Of course, I'm still waiting for more episodes released by ongoing animes, but for now, I'm caught up. I guess that's it to keep tabs on, guys. Stay awesome~

The next morning, Genevieve wakes up for the sake of starting her day. On the night table beside her bed sits her trustworthy digital clock. She has admitted that digital clocks are not actually that bad; it is easier to read Arabic numerals than Roman ones, not to mention clock hands. The sight of it jogs the mage's mind into thinking about the future of the human race. Firstly, people will never learn how to read clock hands, or Roman numerals. Secondly, there will be so much advancement in technology that sorcery will be scarcely, if ever, introduced or mentioned. Lastly. . . second point.

Her mind trailing along, Genevieve grimaces. To her dismay, she knows a few people that are completely clueless when it comes to reading clock hands, let alone Roman numbers. Unfortunately, one of those people is Dakota. Despite that he is the youngest in her family, he was born in a time where clock hands were still used. He must know how to read traditional clocks. That is what Genevieve believes, anyway. Feeling that she has enough thinking, the mage snaps out of her mind to prevent herself from thinking deeper. The black digital clock reads 8:25.

Her skin begins to crawl as something in her mind dawns on her. Genevieve pulls the covers away, swings her legs to the edge of her bed, and springs into action. Her first stop is her closet. She opens the closet door quickly, carelessly pulls out the garment her eyes lay on first—a maroon robe with golden yellow accents—and tosses it on her bed. She finds a matching mage hat and hurls it to the robe. The sorceress undresses herself from her soft blue nightgown, equips her plain white undergarment, and then slips into her robe. It is somewhat troublesome for her to wear a thin, cotton suit underneath, especially at a time like this.

Genevieve rushes to the bathroom to brush her jet black locks, straightening her hair to be tied into a ponytail later. Never will she forget to wash the dirt off of her face, nor her teeth. She greatly dislikes morning breath. After she is satisfied with her appearance—which she has no time to evaluate today—she dashes back into her room, puts on her hat, grabs her spellbook and shoves it in her book bag. The mage swings the adjustable strap over her shoulder, and snatches her staff before ushering herself out of the red-orange house. . . Only to hastily hustle back upstairs and rummage through her closet for her blood red scarf before leaving. She claims the item as her "trademark", and will never go anywhere without it. Without a moment's hesitation, Genevieve haphazardly wraps the cloth around her neck, runs back downstairs—rolling down the carpeted steps at one point—puts on her red knee length boots, and finally steps outside. Then, the mage seal the door with her magic. She hops onto her staff and takes off, as a witch does with her magic broom.

It takes her around ten minutes on her flying broom—er, staff—to get to Marissa's place, and almost half an hour on foot. Luckily, Genevieve was calm enough to think of using her staff than sprinting all-out as if her house was about to explode. When the sorceress' staff slowly lowers to the ground, she gets off, one foot after the other. She dispels the enchantment on the object, and presses the doorbell.

Marissa's house has the same structure as Genevieve's, but painted sky blue over the door and the garage doors. Unlike majority of the residents in Startop Metropolis, the Blades never have cars, or any vehicle to park in the garages, so the garage is merely a second storage room for them. Only one of the Blades actually own a car—and have a driver's license.

There is a click on the door, and opens to reveal an emotionless, silent Frostblade. Right away, Genevieve knows that Marissa knows she is late. Glancing at the snowflake wall clock behind Marissa, the clock hands show 8:47.

"Come in," is all Marissa said. It is not to anyone's surprise; she knows things, but does not openly point out anything unless that is called for.

Genevieve smiles, with a hint of bitterness. "Thanks." Sometimes, she is glad that Marissa is who she is now. Her distant and quiet nature makes it easy for the mage to prank her two cousins and get away without being told on. She got told on twice, just for the tattle-tale to find out that the boys already knew. Other times, Genevieve's tricks were legitimate pranks, and the ice mage never said a word about any of them.

Marissa closes the door and seals it with her magic as Genevieve flops on the ombre sofa in the guest room. The minute Marissa walks to the kitchen, a loud thud quakes the marble tiled floor. A muffled groan follows after.

"Dakota, use the steps next time," Marissa orders. Her voice is raised, but not to the point it becomes a shout.

Genevieve cocks her head to the fallen body. "That idiot is here, too?"

Upon hearing that familiar voice, the albino jumps back on his feet, bolts wildly towards the sofa, and dives at the source. She scoots over quickly, enough to allow the animal to land on her legs. Her next idea will be pushing him off the furnishing.

"Can't I at least give you a hug?" Dakota plead. "Don't turn into cold Marissa!" Whether the distant sorceress hears that or not, Genevieve does not know. If she takes offense from his comment, she will show no indication.

There was a time in Marissa's life when she was more open and warm. She would give hugs, and be willing to receive them. She had friends, too. The ice mage had everything going for her, until the day she told a friend one of her biggest secrets. Unfortunately, the friend told her friends, then they told their friends, and so on. From then on, Marissa drew back, isolated herself, and disappeared from their lives.

Genevieve scowls at first, then curls her lips. She has an idea, but Dakota is not aware. "Oh, all right," she finally says, "just o—"

Before she finishes her sentence, the boy quickly pulls Genevieve closer and embraces her. For a guy with not much build, he can almost immobilize anyone with his usual bear hug. Secretly, with the blade end in her hand, Genevieve swiftly thrusts it at his left breast. The moment Dakota feels rushing air, he falls back. At the sight of Genevieve's doing, his emotions of happiness and relaxation switches to confusion, slight irritation, and anger in a matter of seconds. The wicked sorceress can see the invoking feelings, and feels no guilt for it.

"Get a brain that lets you know better," Dakota snarls. Small puffs of smoke blows from his nostrils, emphasizing his annoyance. "A nice hug and a stab are two different things."

Genevieve pretends to pay no attention to his suggestion."If you're going to start acting like a heater, can you turn yourself off?" she asks sarcastically. "Anyhow"—putting down her staff, with the crimson dragon's head facing Dakota—"You didn't let me finish what I was going to say, so that annoyed me. For your information, 'a hug' and 'a stab' are synonyms in my dictionary." Dakota glances down at his black and red t-shirt. A cut from Genevieve's staff is visible on the fabric.

Dakota heaves out an impatient sigh and quietly pouts. His anger is visible in his voice. "Now Marissa has to sew it back together." Genevieve rolls her eyes, and thinks he sounds childish when he uses that tone.

"I'm not your mother, Dakota," Marissa can be heard from the kitchen. Even though she dislikes doing favours for other people, her voice is as cool and calm as ever. "I'll sew it for you, then give you some lessons."

"Fine."

The air in the guest room begins to cool when Marissa makes a calm entrance, carrying her staff and spellbook. "Are you ready?" she asks. Both mages nod, and together they leave the building as if nothing has happened. Genevieve and Dakota goes back to behaving themselves, knowing what consequences awaits them if they get into fights within the public eye. With specks of ice magic twirling around Marissa's pale fingers, she casts a lock spell on her house, and the magical bits disappears into the door.

***

Once the trio steps foot into the industrious part of Startop, they immediately get down to business. Marissa, Dakota, and Genevieve visits several stores to purchase decorations for the family reunion. Marissa does most of the purchasing, and Dakota and Genevieve picks out the supplies. With teal eyes boring no interest in anything, the ice mage is not willing to choose decorations. While they are walking, Dakota chirps away like a happy bird about girls he met, how beautiful they all are—in descriptive detail—while Genevieve make vile attempts to silence him. One time, she summons her red scorpion to toss it into Dakota's mouth, with people staring, but the creature simply vanishes out of disgust before the deed is done. Every now and then, the cold ice mage does what she does best: shut both of their traps up. When it looks like things have settled (Marissa has her ways of knowing), she frees them from her icy shackles of discipline. The process repeats itself between almost every store they visit.

Some time at midday, the three mages stops at one of the wooden benches that are scattered across the area. The sun reaches its peak at this time, as hot rays beam on the top of their heads, and on exposed skin. Marissa checks her leather maroon pouch, leaving Dakota complaining about the strong ultraviolet light and Genevieve teasing him with her witch hat. The moment the ice mage looks up sharply with glaring eyes, both children stops.

"There's a café near here," Marissa states, "I may have enough money to buy lunch for you guys. What do you want?"

"One baguette for me!" Dakota pipes.

"I'll have a smoothie, thanks," Genevieve says.

"What flavour?" Marissa inquires.

"Green tea."

Marissa seals her pouch, and thrusts her staff at Dakota, who reacts with a confused look as he grabs it. Without any word of explanation or reasoning, or change in expression, she hurries down the sidewalk to the café. Genevieve cracks a grin at the pyromancer. "Marissa entrusts you with her power of ice, idiot."

The boy glares at the mischievous sorceress. "I-I'm not an idiot!" he stutters. ". . . It's the first time that Marissa actually displays any sign of trust in a long while." Softening to a hollow face, Dakota skims over the ice staff, from the glimmering quartz to the sharpened end. "I never expected her to trust me."

Both of them stand in silence when a light, warm breeze blows through the clear, blue sky, briefly picking up the fluttering tails of Genevieve's scarf. The atmosphere that captivates two Blade kinfolk blocks out the rest of the world: birds singing, people communicating, and cars zooming by. Seconds after the reflection, Genevieve fiddles with the rim of her hat. "We'll never know. Marissa really is a mystery. It's sad that nobody has her figured out yet."

"Not even you?"

"Hold your dragon wings, pal. I'm still getting down to it. Since no one even bothers for a competition to solve the heart, mind and soul of that 'nobody'—"

The term she uses to label Marissa encourages Dakota to swing the staff at Genevieve's head. Simply taking a step back, his move is a clean miss.

"Getting fired up now, are we?" The mage calmly asks. "Knock yourself out with Nobody's frosty staff, maybe that will cool you off." That sarcastic suggestion makes Dakota grit his teeth. Other than that, he does not make a move this time.

"Marissa's not a Nobody," Dakota protests. His golden eyes change from gleaming playfully to burning beads, with flames that have yet to grow into infernos. "At least I recognize her. You're the biggest Nobody that anyone has ever known!"

Out of nowhere, the ground jumps for half a second. Then, a bolt of electricity instantly darts down from upwards. The unusual appearance of lightning intends to strike Genevieve; however, she skips a few steps away from her position, resulting in a black mark on the pavement. The diameter of the impact is big enough to char off a portion of the wooden bench, with bits of burnt, black wood flying. The blue lightning and the brief quake secretly surprises the two teens, despite that they know the source of this phenomenon.

"Who called Marissa a 'nobody'!?"

Genevieve and Dakota turns to the low, rough voice. Simultaneously, many people, if not all, in the scene does the same. Curious, fearful, irritated, shocked, and neutral pairs of eyes from strangers—and cousins—meet the stormy purple eyes of a tall man with long brown hair and tan skin. His white long sleeve shirt is rolled up to his forearms, wearing black trousers and a grey belt.

The newcomer approaches Genevieve and Dakota, keeping his hard eyes locked on them, as if they are his prey. Even though it does not seem like it, the albino is shaking, while the black haired girl slowly gulps. In their family, nobody messes with Hunter Stormblade—nor with anything or anyone he holds dear. Mess something up with him—or something of his—and you will get wallopped in the head. . . If you are lucky.

"I'll punch the juice out of both of ya if I don't get an answer." With hands on his hips, Hunter intensely stares down at his two younger cousins.

"If you think saying that makes you look cool, that's not going to attract you any girls," Dakota muses. "On the other hand, Genevieve is responsible for that insult." When Hunter spins his head to look at Genevieve, she is already retreating in the air with her staff. Inwardly, Dakota feels relieved; his older cousin ignored his remark prior to mentioning Genevieve. Otherwise, he would have been fried.

The young adult breaks out into a sprint, pursuing the fleeing witch. He is faster than most thugs in the city, it sometimes make the Blades incredulous, even Marissa. Sparks of blue lightning flies around him as he magically conjure up several lightning bolts in his hands. "Ge-ne-vieeeeve!" Hunter aims his bolts and throws them at his target, while yelling out curses and threats. Genevieve simply smirks at the angry madman and evades all of his attacks as if gliding gracefully in the air. Due to this, the bolts damage residential property. She allows him to chase her through the city twice. . . without taking a single blow from the power. The mage sheepishly looks down at the running and screaming people below; it is a shame to use the entire community as an escape hatch from the pursuit of the roughest resident.

When the mage returns to the meeting place with Dakota, she suddenly flies from her enchanted staff and lands on the ground hard. Fortunately, the impact does not affect any of her body's vital points, despite the pain that shoots down from her torso to her feet, and all around. She winces as her eyes dart around, looking for her staff. Her staff is in good condition as it strikes the ground, landing a few feet across from her with a clang! Genevieve quickly figures that she must have got hit by Hunter's bolts.

Hunter has his eyes on the sorceress' staff the whole time; he stomps on the neck of the casting item with a loud thud. Considering his strength, anyone will be surprised that it does not break from the force. "No way I'm giving you your staff back," he coldly says. With a weave of his slightly meaty hand, he creates a new sparking lightning bolt, and aims its tip at helpless Genevieve. With the situation now in his favour, Hunter cracks a smile, for the first time in weeks; he only does this when he is about to finish a foe. His sharp, pearl white teeth is exposed between his lips. "I've finally go—"

"Stop!"

Marissa has returned from the café. She stands beside Dakota, with her staff in one hand and the purchased lunch in the other. Her eyes remain cold and unflinching as she heaves out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness you two are okay." As Genevieve rises to her feet, the ice mage simultaneously turns to Hunter. "Have you gotten into any trouble lately?"

"No." After taking a glance at the staff his foot rests on, he continues, "I've been working out lately. Read a few books. . . Never bumped into those street thugs." The sorceress notices his expression softening to his usual blank one. His tone is smoother now, too. It is nothing new to Genevieve; she knows Hunter has respect for the dutiful ice mage.

Marissa strides to the staff clamped by the black sole of Hunter's shoe, and merely pulls it out. The smooth, swift movement that frees the staff makes it seem like she has done it effortlessly. Hunter cannot help but blush; he feels embarrassed when his relative is stronger than him. Not a very tall girl at that, too. Genevieve giggles, though the sound is too soft to be heard.

Handing Genevieve her staff respectively, Marissa digs around in the paper bag for a custard bun, and silently offers it to the seventeen year old. He shakes his head and looks away. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Will you come to Roundtree to help us, bro'?" The albino boy asks.

Hunter's facial expression hardens slightly. "I can't, kid. I have to show up at a street showdown." Dakota bit the inside of his cheek, while giving an expression that yells 'I'm not a kid!'. Fortunately, his cousin does not always call him that. Actually, they barely even talk to each other. Given the fact that Hunter is the oldest among the Blades, he treats the remaining three as mere children, with Marissa being the only exception from his treatment.

The man takes a glance over his shoulder before muttering "Later." He waves his hand, and starts heading towards an intersection. He will soon arrive at a small neighbourhood not far from the industrious parts. Hunter always fight in quieter areas; out in the city will hurt many innocent citizens.

"For a guy who lived around thugs, he keeps a good body posture," Genevieve comments, sneaking a wink to Marissa. "You're lucky he likes you more than any of us. If the entire world challenges him to a fight—and you're on our side—he won't lay his big boned hands on you. Even if you follow along with the rest of us."

"I have to make him like me," the ice kinfolk quietly replies, "Nobody will be capable of keeping him under control if he doesn't love anyone." She hands out the requested food items to Genevieve and Dakota for lunch, then fishes out her custard bun. "It's already past noon, and we were suppose to be at Roundtree Park at this time. The café has a lot of customers today; I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Sit on the bench; hurry and eat. We'll be on our way afterwards."

My apologies for the unexpected hiatus. Been doing other things lately.. #Wizard101#watching Pewds #going on Tumblr</small> But now that I'm back, I'll have to go manage my Inbox.. Mental note to self: never leave my Inbox unattended for a period of time; or I might delete something important while I sort things out later. And go back to doing my usual thing.

As you may already know, I started a new novel called Hot Wind,featuring three four lovely wizards. Well, two of them aren't actually wizards, but they still hold magic to a degree, so I gotta admit, the first chapter of this novel kinda sucks 'cause it's been a while since I write these kind of things, eh? Hopefully, I won't be in writer's block as often as I was in Beyond an Average Life and Ties of Trinity. :/ That won't be good. >.< I understand that writer's block sometimes happen, but if it happens too much then it means either a) Too much procrastinating going on, or b) Not much motivation/inspiration coming. *Sigh* Yeah. I have yet posted up profiles of the main characters, and I probably won't be doing that until all three four of them are introduced. o_o Until then, the readers are gonna have to figure "headcanons" about the characters themselves. *Shot*

~Out of topic~Wizard101 update: I'm finally in Krokotopia. And it's gonna... take me a while before I can go to the Chamber of Fire.. And the Palace of Fire, too... This World has two more zones than Wizard City, so it's kinda obvious that it's gonna take some time to go through.. ~ ~

~Anyways, back to the usual~ School is almost here for many of us. With that said, Hot Wind is gonna be on hold after the first week or two, depending on the workload I get within that time frame. :/ I probably will get a hiatus on here, too, when school starts School, school, school... On school nights, I'll probably be on Tumblr most of the time, and a bit of Wizard101 School.. and probably catching up on animes.. if I can. #gotta go fast~ ~

Speaking of Pewds, has any bro' watched him play Five Nights at Freddy's? Or at least watched any YouTuber play that game?Oh gosh, that game has messed up my life. @_@

I've seen .GIFs and posts on Tumblr about that game. Seems like it has gotten popular recently, too. Like, there was this one post with the audio of a remix-ish thing of Sonic Adventure 2's City Escape: Escape from the City, with a .GIF of Foxy on surveillance, running down the West Hall of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. Of course, Pewds was not the only one who recorded himself while playing this game. I went ahead and watched several other YouTubers play Five Nights at Freddy's. I also watched a YouTuber who completed the Custom Night mode with the animatronics' A.I. set to the highest level. O_O Pretty impressive stuff. #I don't even know how people like him can even put up with this horrific shiz #like#just

That game made me have scarred sleep for a night. >_< I watched people play that in the light of day, and yet the game lingered in my head at night. That just sucks, really. ._.' I'm glad I didn't get horrible sleep for five nights. Hurhurrhur #did you see what i did there

That's pretty much it I can keep tabs on for the moment. Stay awesome~

The town is bustling with engine noises and car horns as Genevieve walks down the peopled sidewalk, thinking about the dress she is going to buy for the reunion. As a lunatic fan of traditionally styled clothing, she decides to buy a trendy garment only if she cannot find anything that catches what her mind sees. Unfortunately for Genevieve, most fashion stores in the city fly in with modern or trending fashions. As she peers into each of the stores, there is nothing that is of her choice. The sight of her preferred dress begins to fade.

The mage sighs, and continues her way down the line of stores. After a while, she peers into one of the stores' windows to find dresses with earthy tones—and designs that sparks her interest. Reluctantly, Genevieve enters the store.

Floral patterned dresses, tunics, long dresses, flouncy dresses, and even modern dresses are displayed around the store. Seeing that the store is a fairly big one, Genevieve figures that it will take her a considerable amount of time to thoroughly browse for the dress she wants. Without hesitance, she approaches the rack of dresses closest to the front, starting with the left side.

After midday, Genevieve leaves a clothing store with a rather large store bag. With one arm carrying the dress she bought, the mage fishes her notepad out of her orange book bag, and flips to the recent note. Grinning, she pulls the pen through the plastic coils, uncaps it, and crosses off the item on her list, leaving a line of red over the handwriting. Shortly after, Genevieve shoves the cap on and puts them back in her book bag. Just as she is about to head home, a scream pierces the urban atmosphere, with loud, ear-splitting cackling chasing the terrified sound. Everyone around her—who are all trained in sorcery in a certain point in their lives—briefly pauses and take glances for the source of the cackling. That happens for a brief ten seconds before the city dwellers return to their original business, usually either going their merry way or on their phones. They are in no danger, so why should they worry?

Genevieve briefly takes mental note of what has happened. The next minute, she shrugs it off, and begins walking. The sorceress inwardly curses, while keeping a straight face. The advancement in technology over the years personally offends her; she does not like to look—or even glance—at people looking down at their phones in their hands. To her dissatisfaction, technology has made people use magic in public less often, meaning that there will not be more public dueling. Technology can also mean more security. Preserving the traditional ways is one of Genevieve's values—it basically explains why she tends to carry her wand—or staff, if going to special occasions—as she go, when almost nobody nowadays will do.

Although she looks fine as she strides firmly over the pale sidewalk, her mind is running wild from the booming sound she heard earlier. "It's nothing," she repeats to herself. "Move on. . . Don't think about it."

As usual, she ends up thinking about it. Moments later, Genevieve snaps out of her mind maze and looks up. She is getting pushed and brushed out of the way by waves of citizens. She does not mind getting pushed by people; she has all the right to push back, in any case. It is difficult to navigate one's way through people who are going the opposite direction. Another boom of cackling splits the sky, which can be assumed that the source of it is close by. Some shouting and shrieking follows after. Listening to the sound again is enough to make Genevieve's clouding mind of doubts vanish. It sounds like. . . lightning.

The people moving opposite of Genevieve are not doing so in a panicking, rushed manner; in fact, they are pretty calm with it. The almost fashioned nature of the moving crowd encourages Genevieve to lose herself again in thought, only this lasts more shortly than the first one. She feels someone brushing her shoulder at a rushed pace. Becoming a little more annoyed, the mage whips her head to the direction of the stranger, and sees none other than her older cousin, Marissa Frostblade, a mage with navy blue hair and ice-cold eyes.

"Marissa," Genevieve menacingly calls out, despite that she does not intend to use that tone. Normally, she reserves that tone to anyone who provokes her. "Long time no see, huh?"

Another voice—one with enthusiasm—that belongs to a boy in his early teens, breaks in. "And I'm coming, too!"

The outline of his white hair glows under the afternoon sun. Genevieve immediately recognize him. He is Dakota, another cousin of hers—the youngest in the Blade family, but from a different bloodline than Marissa and. . . the oldest kinfolk. Thinking about his name is enough to make the sorceress appalled.

"Well, if it isn't the family's favourite clown." Genevieve's sarcasm turns her tongue slightly bitter. To her, Dakota is merely a cheerful, yet idiotic child. He cannot even put his head into use to save his life, if thrown in a life or death situation.

Dakota did not say another word, but acts as though he attempts to do a whistle. What comes out is not a sound of a whistle—not even close; it is the sound of dancing fire. Without warning, flaring red flames shoots out.

Yawning, Genevieve nonchalantly whips out her wand from her thin, leather belt and casts the fire aside with a quick burst of wind she stirred. Somehow, the tips of the licking flames manage to burn some parts of the sleeves of her plain tan robe, with some red trimmings burned, too. Taking it as an assault, the teen mage keeps her wand in hand. In the corner of her eye, the dress is untouched, which somewhat puts her into relaxation. It is Dakota's turn to yawn.

"If you became less stingy about being touched, then I would flirt with you more often," Dakota calmly says. "Besides, I wasn't even trying to land an attack on you with my fire."

Genevieve rolls her eyes playfully. "Yeah, trying to not try, you mean." Slowly, she lowers her wand. "Did you really think that I'll fall for something as lame as that?" Raising an eyebrow, the amused—only a little—mage continues. "For one, I know that you're a crafty cookie, but I'm afraid that the potion I poured on you last year has caused brain damage. Quite troublesome side effects, no?"

As an April Fool's prank last year, Genevieve brewed a potion, which includes a bit of tree sap, vinegar, household bleach, and some grass. After successfully getting some of the liquid on Dakota, she lied that she mixed in scorpion venom and that he is going to be dead in four days since the substance was soaked in through his skin. Things got even worse when her kinfolk found out that the mischievous sorceress did not mention it was a joke.

"That doesn't mean I lost my charm for the girls." Pridefully, Dakota keeps his chin held high.

"Then why am I not charmed by your so-called 'charm for the girls'?"

"Because you're not a girl." Dakota lips breaks into a smile, exposing his teeth that looks more sharp compared to average humans, but holds himself back from bursting into laughter from how his remark sounds.

Genevieve simply shakes her head and sighs. She cannot help but smirk at his comment, too. Before another reply is delivered, or laughter from the younger cousin, Marissa waves her hand in motions, ending with a flick of her wrist. A wisp of cold wind blows over Dakota’s lips, and coats him with bits of ice upon touching his skin, seizing them from parting. The two spellcasters do not remember that Marissa is in presence, Dakota being the most surprised from the sudden spell.

"People are watching," the ice mage coolly informs. "And they're not liking what they see. It's best if I clamp your mouth shut."

In response, Genevieve snickers. "You know, Marissa, you didn't have to do that. I can make him shut up in one fell swoop; I just didn't use the magic word, that's all. . . But I appreciate your cooperation." After her comment, she looks at the now mute cousin smugly. Marissa adjusts the collar of her icy blue shawl that drapes over her shoulders and upper body, then brings out her staff. The head consists of indigo quartz, making it look slightly like a spear. A traditional symbol of the Frostblade family.

"We shall get going," she says, and gets hold of Dakota, who muffles in protest of the action. "We were suppose to get him away from this part of the city, as he was causing a ruckus and panic to the people. However, your presence made us neglect our task. I shall see you tomorrow, Genevieve." With bitterness in her last sentence, she resumes her way down the sidewalk. Stubborn Dakota constantly resists the girl's grip, but he ends up getting dragged along, anyway.

As if returning from the past to haunt the city, another thunderous cackle splits the air in an instant. The lone mage can see Marissa and Dakota from the distance, running towards the source of that same sound. In a short amount of time, Marissa can get far, even if it means dragging someone with her. "She's a strong mage, I'll admit," Genevieve tells herself. "Almost a monster at that. But no one can defeat me, not in a formal match. Marissa looks tough, but dueling is like dust on a shelf to her." The minute Genevieve turns back to continue her way home, she takes a final glance at the direction her two cousins ran.

***

Life gives the sorceress forty-five minutes and then expect her to be home on time. Punctuality sounds contradictory to her character, but even her relatives can say that she has some of it. Genevieve puts her book bag carefully on a wooden chair behind her work table, and tosses the bag with her dress on her bed. She gently pulls her dress out of the bag, and begins marvelling it.

It appears to be a pearl white sleeveless garment, with maroon feathers extending from one shoulder. The hemline of the dress is coloured maroon as well. From one shoulder to another, floral patterns outlined in gold embroiders the scarlet background, stretching across the upper torso. Taking note of the details, Genevieve considers wearing half an arm full of metallic bangles for both forearms, and some dark eyeshadow, with heavy black eyeliner.

While she let herself ponder, thunder booms through the air. The mage merely glances out the nearest window. Light grey clouds cover all traces of the usual blue canvas, and unfortunately swallow the sun, too. Not a drop of sunlight touches the earth. Whether it is about to rain, or the sound comes from the same source like it did most of this day, Genevieve is not sure, for once. At that moment, she notices that there is no sign of a single umbrella anywhere in her home.

Hello there, fellow deviants! Many of us are starting our gears for school, whether it be university, college, or high school, or any other educational programs at that matter. How was everyone's life back to learning?

Well, mine didn't go very well at the start. o_o'For my first semester, I don't have Math and Science. :/ I'm gonna have to get used to being in English first period, and I have a feeling that AP French is gonna kill me by next month, considering the cirriculum's emphasis in oral communication. The work is a bit challenging, too. Basically, I just don't like any of the courses in this semester--Media Arts is the only course that I'll enjoy very much. xD? Additioonally, my locker is assigned in one of the busiest halls in the school. That 'ought to be fun...

I got a bit angry for having my hopes up today 'cause there wasn't an anime club. An acquaintance of mine misled "anime" with "animation", so-- *Anyways, I can't wait until Art club starts~* *And Hon and I are starting volunteer hours early so hooray for jump starts on those kinds of things* I also got angry yesterday 'cause I couldn't start on colouring the line art I inked on Photoshop in Media Arts. I have to follow these certain steps to prepare the line art for colouring and shading. .-.

In English, I have to get 25 points in this reading program called "Accelerated Reading", and so many more things are gonna pop up in this year.#i cant

~~~~~~~~~~

Well, looks like my novel is gonna be delayed for sure. And, as you may have noticed, I was dead on dA since the start of September. Yeah...

Wait, did I mention that I got my credits in summer school already? Yeppers, I did. I finished off with an A in both courses, so I'm happy with the results. Well, except in one course; I got around an A- in it.. >_>

I've caught up with the animes I'm currently watching right now, and I'm frequently listening to Touhou soundtracks to pump me through my academic work. Of course, I'm still waiting for more episodes released by ongoing animes, but for now, I'm caught up. I guess that's it to keep tabs on, guys. Stay awesome~